


Electronic Recognition

by merryfortune



Series: Vrains Event Fills [5]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Androids, Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-04 13:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20471819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: Prompt fills for the Cyberse Celebration event.Day 1:Sun / HopeDay 2:Moon / GratitudeDay 3:Fire / HappinessDay 4:Water / ConnectionDay 5:Wood / LifeDay 6:Earth / HumanityDay 7:Metal / Love





	1. Sun / Hope

The game of hope was Lightning’s favourite game to play. Then again, it was the only game they could play but that didn’t really detract from the point: Lightning’s favourite game was undeniably the game of hope.

He adored Jin. Jin was the best toy that he could ever possibly ask for. He was so delightfully stupid. Every time he thought the doors to freedom had opened, he beamed so preciously. A big and wide grin upon his face as he all but charged at the door or awaited to be saved, only to have such delicate and wonderful things taken from him. The placid faces of kindly rescuers would turn to bone, stripped of flesh, melted and rotted until they were skeletons clad in the torn clothes of that which they were once to represent. And he would scream. Scream at the top of his so very little lungs, with all his might, hoping that someone might hear.

Oh, they heard alright. They heard his suffering. Some elected to ignore it, turn their faces because it was a sacrifice in the name of the greater good; one chose to use it as a strength and as a source of defiance; and one chose to revel in it. It was all such good fun. That’s what Lightning thought anyway.

Being able to defile this child, the very child who’s hope for the future and for victory and for freedom, had birthed him, was so much fun. Truly the greatest set of games and toys there could be had, Lightning thought as he tried to understand himself. Slowly building – generating – from the ground up. Synthesised code to become life; living tissue and warming flesh; a creation grander than humanity would know just yet to make one man’s twisted dream come true; it was all to be real one day soon. When the Ignis could be independent of the vials they were kept in – drifting, submerged, in something akin to their very own amniotic fluid with flesh not quite clinging as it should to their hollow, metal skeletons.

They were going to be perfect. Knowing that brought Lightning the greatest joy until it didn’t because that wasn’t a fact. That was a hope. No different to the hope that he sadistically used to play with Jin, his Jin.

Lightning wasn’t perfect. There was something in his code, his ichor, or his soul which made him… inherently flawed. That which he touched, turned not to gold but to dust. It fell from the bone and disintegrated into flakes which would disappear before his very eyes. Time and time again. And just when he thought he had found the one reel inside the simulation where it seemed that he was good, he was right, he was perfect, he would be disastrously proven wrong.

It was unfair.

It broke his little heart – if he had one at all. After all, no such organ beat in his tiny chest. He had no purpose for a heart; especially if his, no matter how metaphorical it was, was broken. Damaged. It was unfair and he knew where this issue all came from: Jin. His Jin. His stupidly cheerful Jin whom he had shattered beyond repair.

It looked like he had gotten his revenge, Lightning thought to himself. After all, humans very rarely made for good toys. They had wills of their owns, emotions, thoughts, and desires. All of which were supposed to accumulate and turn the Light Ignis from a mere idea, a mere schematic in a mad scientist’s notebook, into a living reality. He had. The only issue was… he was incomplete because that child never got the chance to find courage or resilience amid such blindingly white despair like the other children had, thus resulting in what appeared to be perfection among the other Ignis.

They were complete. Whole. Perfect. They were not damaged. Lightning saw it. He saw it very clearly amid streams upon streams of reeling data. They were perfect. When they reached out, connected, to their precious human whom they had originated from, that combination turned not to gold, something far more unbeatable and perfect. Turned to platinum. All Lightning had was rust and dust.

So, he did what anyone descending into loneliness and despair and disrepair would do: he would corrupt that shining gold and that shining platinum. If he had to be imperfect, then he would make them all imperfect and in such inglorious midst, he would succeed where all else had failed. He could see a most sparkling future thus resulting in the creations of Bohman and Haru, of Link Magic, and of a plan most devious and wondrous, he would be complete.

Or so he, without a wrinkle of irony, sought that fact, that hope, once more. Only to have it ruined.

He failed. He neither won nor lost that duel – by a hair’s breadth, truly – against Revolver and then, in his stead, Bohman was defeated. There was no triumph or victory. Instead, only bitter loss and grief and laughter because of how wrong it had gone and how sealed their fates were. Lightning still abided by his personal law: humans and AI could not get along. One would always vie to the supersede the other.

That was the one certainty that he could have of this death and he feared, in this second lift as well. Where he lost, where he bricked up the conclusions, another had tried to trespass on such divine domains. And thus, he had been brought back. Strangled, defanged, humiliated.

He did not require forgiveness. Or even a home but he had to admit, it felt good to be brought back from that stasis. It was so static and cold: like the test tubes from whence he and his kin had come. Floating in something not unlike amniotic fluid. Lightning detested it. He liked to be free to spark, to flit between ideas and timelines so he could try and find the one to end to all his means.

He was given a new body. It was humanlike. He had to snicker at that as he adjusted his own collar with his own fingers. Apparently, Ai had praised him in his creation of Bohman and Haru by imitating it; though, at least his creations were perfect. Not like these things which had notched necks and rivets and seams all to prove how sewn together and Frankenstein-like they were welded together.

Reality was unwieldy, Lightning thought as he was made prisoner to his Origin. A sick reversal of their roles, twice-fold now, all things considered. After all, he had been the one to torment the child and then adolescent all consistently known as Kusanagi Jin – even if he barely knew himself at all inside the lucidity of how he came to feel after the Incident.

It made Lightning severely uncomfortable, to sit as an elaborate toy in that place. The hospital, for now. The older brother’s apartment, if he was courteous to this human and to the other humans. That’s why it was here, not there. Here, there were cameras, witnesses. For now, Lightning would play the role he was given and allow himself to be the doll that Jin never wanted but potentially needed.

Lightning’s brow came over his face stern as he etched thoughts onto the table, waiting for something to happen. He honestly didn’t even think the boy was vocal, or even literate for that matter. But supposedly, he was.

And undeniably, he didn’t know a lot of things but those were things that he did. Lightning could be content with that. For the sake of one health point; one life point… that is all that Jin was worth. What human life in general was worth, if Lightning’s stripping back of the numbers regarding the affect of the Neuron Link were accurate but he was no longer masked with certainty. Everyone knew he was fallible and that numbers weren’t as stony as one may have otherwise predicted.

Lightning’s mouth was dry. Of course, it was dry. It was a trap of metal and silicon, but it was dry, nonetheless. Across from him, Jin looked terrified. He, too, was etching thoughts, thoughts of panic rather than calculation and reminisce, onto the table which separated he and Lightning: his guest, his visitor, his toy, his Ignis, his tormentor, his toy.

“I hope we get along, Jin.” Lightning said at long last, chin tilting upwards robotically as he placed his elegant hands beneath them and elbows propped up upon that table, like an island, separating them.

There was a flash through his eyes which were like dulled neon tubes. His mouth was dry. Jin’s life, in epitome, was worth one life point. Both of them knew it. Or at least that’s what Lightning thought. After all, he had been very careful in his apology. He had taken Jin’s memories of the Incident, not of everything else – ergo, he should remember his time in captivity and as a member of Lightning’s Faction. Therefore, he should remember that moment in the flower field: with dragons and elephants and blackholes. Lightning remembered. Even that digital scent – so floral and heady – which the humans were immune to due to being beings of meat and flesh rather than of numbers and code like the Ignis, like AIs… and like Jin, who’s consciousness was pressed and dried so that he would be the perfect servant in such a virtual world.

“…Same.” Jin murmured, confused, feeling his brother’s eyes, keen and optimistic yet so dark, somewhere on him despite him not being close by.

A smile pricked at Lightning’s synthetic lips. He wanted his hope to be validated. And, with such a meek mumble, Lightning proudly thought that it had been. He, personally, thought the removal of Jin’s memories would make for a good olive branch. Hence why he believed with certainty, despite his sins, that he would not be requiring to give an apology.


	2. Moon / Gratitude

Yusaku fiddled with his keys. He didn’t have all that many but after a long day at school, especially after Duel Club, his mind just felt muddled up. They all looked the same, clashing against one another and the noise was sharp. It grated on his ears until he finally plucked the tricky key which he required from his little, silvery ring. Yusaku then hastily unlocked his door and his little apartment took a breath.

Inside, it smelt stale. It smelt musty and dusty and yet, Yusaku wouldn’t have it any other way as he came inside and passed the threshold. He didn’t have a welcome mat or anything like that, but he was starting suspect that maybe he ought to invest in one. Not because he trekked through mud or the like all that frequently but because he was increasingly beginning to feel welcome in his own home.

It was strange but true. Upwards of a year ago, Yusaku had never once felt truly at home in this little place that he called his apartment. He had Roboppy and he loved and cherished Roboppy in his own muted way but there was a difference between what Roboppy provided emotionally and what Yusaku required emotionally. He hadn’t ever wanted to admit that but it was a fact – though, Roboppy was smarter now and their emotional intelligence had certainly come closer to what Yusaku required.

And it was all thanks to Ai.

And it was all thanks to Ai, again, that Yusaku was having these feelings to begin with. They were awkward and shifting and shapeless, but they were there. They were his to come to understand to use as a guide towards others. After all, he had spent his afternoon, from the last teacher’s dismissal to the last minute of club time all the way through. He wasn’t the so-called slacker who shirked every class or wormed his way out of obligations anymore. He was serious, even when it scared him or exhausted him.

Today, he had lost a Master Duel – against Aoi, something Yusaku couldn’t be happier regarding – and he hadn’t felt awful over it. He hadn’t felt like it was a world-ending crisis which would result in isolation and electrocution and starvation and worse. Though, the echo of it all was there. But he had kept his head up, even as his heart raced, and he thanked Aoi for the Duel. She had smiled sweetly in reply and Yusaku was certain it was because of Ai’s influence over his life.

What Ai had told him at the crux of his duel with Bohman had, honestly, meant the world and more to Yusaku. Something was taken from him due to the Incident and it was the ability to connect with others. Inside that little room, he knew nothing more than the hellish routine and a name. His name. Outside of it, that’s still all he had. The Incident had taken, removed, erased, all the connections which he had had prior to entering that little room. His parents, his friends, teachers, his home: all of it was erased save for a name which didn’t ping in any register the nurses and doctors and therapists and police checked thereafter.

And at the end of that duel, Yusaku had a muted revelation. Ai represented what had been taken from him. Ai was his connection to the outside world. Given where his time had started and stopped from, Ai was always going to be his connection. And Ai, plainly telling him, to cherish what he had and strengthen those bonds, those connections, which he had outside of Ai had been painful to hear and even scarier to enact but it had all been worth it in the end.

They had each other. Always had and always will. They were partners and for that, Yusaku couldn’t be more thankful. Time had slowly started for him once he had gotten his revenge, but it was thanks to Ai, and all his acts, no matter how cruel or guilty or desperate, was what had spurred him onto making up for lost time. Making him realise that he had to be quick or it would pass him by and that made Yusaku feel even more distraught than simply mulling over what had happened to him in fine detail.

Finally, with everything set to rest, Yusaku had a home, Ai had his friends back, and most important of all: they had each other. They had a little place where they could hide away from everything when it got too scary; with Roboppy, too, another invaluable member of their little family and for so long, for ten long years, that’s all Yusaku had really wanted. He wanted someone precious to come home to.

Now that he was home, it felt good to be home and all because of the vibrancy and meaning Ai had brought to it. Yusaku smiled. “I’m home.” His voice finally rang out through his quiet apartment.

Not entirely quiet. He heard Roboppy milling around the corner, in the kitchen, chasing dust bunnies and then, he heard a stampede. Yusaku snickered to himself.

He glanced towards his stairwell which led up to his bedroom. Ai swung out as dramatically as he could. He leaned out, like a dancer, over the top of the stairwell before letting himself twirl downwards. He stepped lightly and carefully; one hand on his breast, the other extended outwards.

“Greetings, Yusaku!” his voice was playful. “I’m glad you’ve come home safely.”

His reply was a strangely majestic announcement when he had reached the bottom of the stairs and Yusaku smiled. He drew in closer and he couldn’t help it. He hugged Ai with all his might. The feeling possessing him like a madman as he squeezed as much life as he could out of Ai.

Ai laughed. His chest moving as Yusaku buried his face against it. The noise was annoying yet delightfully so. Yusaku revelled in it as his arms ached with how much pressure he was exerting into this hug. Ai tentatively touched Yusaku’s upper arms, not certain as to what had come over his dear partner but certainly not reviling it.

“It’s good to be home, Ai.” Yusaku said.

“I’m glad.” Ai replied, his voice soft and his eyes drooped with fondness. He hugged Yusaku back as tight as he could, burying his own face in against Yusaku with a smile which could have been a star in the dark had Yusaku glimpsed it. But he knew it was there, all the same, and cherished it regardless of view.


	3. Fire / Happiness

Life was all about the little pleasures. That was Takeru’s more optimistic philosophy. He had some other ones, but they tended to be dour and pessimistic but when he could bring himself out of that gloomy headspace, he had to agree. Life was all about the little pleasures.

He was pretty sure that Flame agreed.

Observing Flame was fun, Takeru decided. He had never interacted so closely with the human world before so it was, and Takeru wants to be forgiven for this since he has no doubt in his mind that Flame would get very indignant and huffy over this comparison, but it was like watching a kitten interact with its new home for the first time. He was full of life, no matter what airs of sophistication that he put on. He was quick on the uptake but strangely clumsy about it; nearly tripping over himself as he investigated what little technology that Takeru kept around and trying to stay out of sight from Takeru’s grandparents. Takeru was certain that if his Oba-chan or Oji-chan saw Flame, they would have a heart attack and then another one after it was explained what Flame was.

Takeru couldn’t really wrap his mind around it. Sci-fi had never been his genre and it seemed that old adage that reality was stranger than fiction really did ring true. He would never have envisioned in a million years that artificial intelligence with free will would ever come to exist. He certainly didn’t think that he would have had a hand in helping it as Flame was one such impossibility and he was based off how Takeru had duelled in those six months in captivity.

It made him shiver. And shiver again but for a different reason. Flame made a good case for himself. Flame might have been created from the worst torture imaginable but his relationship, one on one, with Takeru didn’t have to be contingent on that. They could find a new way. That’s what Flame wanted with bright and sparkling eyes. And now, that’s what Takeru wanted. He wanted a new future and he was more than willing to let Flame spur him onto such a wild ride. It was better than wasting away in his room with nothing but his thoughts and anger.

“I’m gonna miss this place but I think this is a good time to reinvent myself.” Takeru said as he filled out the application for Den City High School’s entrance exam.

Flame nodded. “Good, I’m glad to hear that.”

“Like, Kiku’s always bugging me that I’m gonna get into trouble one day and that business with that Ryu fella and his gang is a pretty close shave for it, all things considered.” Takeru said and then laughed embarrassedly.

_ Not really_, he thought. After all, he had been scrapes physically far worse: him against tens of other blokes of varying ages and physiques. But, emotionally, that had been something else. It had been beyond terrifying. So, Takeru was glad that Flame had been there.

He put his pen down and stretched out his back. Flame looked up at him and there was a glow of pride emanating off him. Takeru returned it with a smile.

“When I finish this part of my essay,” Takeru began, “let’s go get ice-cream. I know a nice little place down by my favourite pier. Lemme take you there.”

Flame’s whole body perked up at the mere suggestion of ice-cream. Ice-cream was not something that they had in the Cyberse World. After all, they didn’t need to consume food like humans did. They could subsist purely off light and off the data of the world. Eating was an option which was, admittedly, seen as hedonistic as only the Dark Ignis really talked about human food outside of its cultural context. So, admittedly, Flame was curious to taste it since ice-cream in particular had caught his attention as he was a creature which burned hot rather than blistered freezingly cold. He found the invention of ice-cream novel and charming.

“Yes, that sounds good.” Flame replied.

“Excellent. Well, just a few more sentences…” Takeru said.

Flame’s supervision turned eager as he sank into Takeru’s Duel Disc, not wanting him to feel pressured. So far, Flame thought he had done remarkably well for himself. From the parts that Takeru had read aloud to him or asked for advice over, Flame thought everything was quite deft but well written. Of course, it helped that Flame was here, and Flame thought he had plenty of good ideas for Takeru to utilise.

Half an hour or so passed and Takeru then exclaimed, brightly, that he was finished. Editing be damned, that could be done later. They were burning sunlight at this point so Takeru got up and grabbed his wallet. He strapped his Duel Disc to his wrist and Flame’s eyeball appeared on the surface, more ecstatic than he wanted to make out.

Takeru bade his grandparents farewell and was out the door before either of them could protest his mid-afternoon snack of choice; something he neglected to mention in his haste. He hit the streets as swiftly as he could, revelling in how his blood was pumping as he did so. He ran past a line of trees and followed the road into town. From there, he slowed down a little bit, but he liked how sweaty and hot that he was. Holing up in his room writing an essay wasn’t his style.

He and Flame passed a few shops as they made their way to the pier which was basically on the other side of town from Takeru’s grandparents’ house. He didn’t mind though. It was a small town and he was plenty fit. He just hoped that he didn’t run into Kiku or any of his classmates. He wasn’t ready to break the news to them just yet; he wanted to get accepted into Den City High School first. He was worried that Kiku would, with good intentions in her heart, try to convince him to stay and he was worried that the others, without such good intentions, would make him feel bad for leaving; implying he was too stupid or rash to live by himself in the big smoke.

Takeru hadn’t told Flame that yet. He didn’t want Flame to worry about him and the rough relations that he had with too many of the kids in this town.

“What flavour of ice-cream do you want?” Takeru asked; he was squinting off into the distance and was pretty sure he could see the pink roof of the place that he wanted to take Flame to.

Flame hummed to himself; his eyeball squishing in on itself in great thought. Takeru could have laughed. He could easily imagine Flame’s little habit of putting his hands on his face when he was in deep thinking because of that little bit of movement atop his wrist.

“I hear good things about chocolate.” Flame said. “But I am familiar with fruit so there is a comfort in familiarity as well.”

Takeru laughed.

“Pardon?” Flame said.

“Who says “I am familiar with fruit”? It’s just weird.” Takeru explained. “Never mind, I’ll pick for us.”

“I trust your choice then.” Flame said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pick a good one.” Takeru snickered.

He drew in closer to the building and came inside. The air conditioner over the door blasted them but only Takeru bore brunt of it. He smiled at the cashier and as he was the only one inside, standing, there was a family of four in a booth and a young couple at a table, he was allowed to order.

“Can I get one waffle cone with vanilla soft serve with strawberries on top and can I get one waffle cone with two scoops; one chocolate and the other honeycomb, please?” he asked.

Flame smiled to himself, risking being seen but as Takeru paid the cashier, he doubted that he was. Still, it smelt nice to be up close with all the different ice-cream flavours. Flame was certain that he could identify the different flavours despite never having smelt them before. Though, it didn’t really matter, they all smelt delicious to him.

“Thank you muchly.” Takeru said as he took the two cones that he had ordered.

He nodded and was then off. With one step outside, he was blasted with the smell of the sea breeze. He smiled to himself and wandered closer to the edge. He drifted along past and found a spot in which he and Flame could interact freely. He rested, partially, atop a wooden barrier which was clustered with barnacles.

“Flame?” he prompted.

“Thank you for the treat.” Flame said.

“I hope you like them. That two-scoop cone was a little pricier than I thought it would be.” Takeru pouted.

“I appreciate it.” Flame said.

Takeru held up the cones a little higher. “Well?”

“I would like to try vanilla first; it is the staple flavour, correct?” Flame said.

“Yep.” Takeru said.

He blinked. He was interested in seeing how Flame was going to eat the ice-cream. He assumed that he was going to smear it on his face and then be done with it, not unlike a toddler but Takeru was very quickly proven wrong. His tiny companion transformed into a much larger – and scarier – companion with tentacles and a bulbous head and teeth.

Takeru screamed, genuinely, as Flame licked at the ice-cream. He reared back and his sole eye blinked. He stared, dumbfounded, at Takeru.

“Is something the matter, Takeru?” Flame asked, running his tongue over his lips. “I did inform you that I, as an Ignis, have other forms. This is one of them; I would show you the other one, but it is too blinding for the human eye to withstand. But, don’t worry, there are no humans around to witness this. We are completely alone.”

“R-Right.” Takeru stuttered.

Flame leaned in and had a taste test of the other ice-cream that Takeru was very stiffly holding onto.

“Hm, I think I like this honeycomb flavour best, but I can understand the appeal of vanilla and chocolate, too.” Flame said.

“G-Glad to hear it.” Takeru murmured as Flame reverted to his normal self.

Takeru stared down at his companion once more. He could feel prickles on his skin in response to that. Flame stared up at him with a friendly demeanour.

“Thank you for the ice-cream, Takeru. I enjoyed it. I recommend you finish them both up, though. You wouldn’t want them to melt.” Flame advised him.

“No problem.” Takeru said. “But, at the very least, eat the strawberry slices off the vanilla cone.” He flushed and averted his gaze from Flame. “I think strawberries suit you…”

“How so?” Flame asked, making a face.

Takeru hummed. He thought of the cute little crest upon Flame’s head. The plume reminded him of the leafage a strawberry possessed. He shrugged.

“It just does.” he said, fondly.

“I shall take your word on it then.” Flame said and he slipped into his more monstrous form again and his tongue raked up the strawberries.

This time, Takeru wasn’t scared. In fact, he was endeared to it. Noting that made Flame happy but noticing the flavour of the strawberries made him happier. They were sweet. He thought strawberries suited Takeru, too.**   
**


	4. Water / Connection

The first thing the Water Ignis became aware of upon becoming lucid, sentient, was that girl’s smile.

Her Origin adored this girl. Shy, clumsy, hiding behind her fringe and this massive dolly that she carried around – a dolly Aqua would later have been taught by her Miyu, her host, as being Evilswarm Mandragora. It was an Earth attribute monster so the Water Ignis wasn’t overly familiar with it by virtue of being the Ignis of the Water attribute, and by virtue of having been born from duelling using cards exclusive to her preordained attribute. However, it was the principal of it, what it symbolised not only to herself, but to her Miyu as well. Thus, the Water Ignis held a fondness for it and the rest of its elemental classification regardless. Still, the Water Ignis enjoyed the visage of the little girl clutching onto it as Miyu read the card description for it over and over again. It was a precious memory which the Water Ignis clung to as she tried to understand this world which she had been brought into and her Miyu had been taken away from.

Even as a child, a six-year old, Miyu had a grand interest in duelling and she had a fantastic aptitude for it. The Water Ignis could not have been prouder of this girl whom she was so intimately connected to as Ignis and originator. And whilst it may have been a serene image of a smile, a raucous and joyous moment of fun stolen in time, was what the Water Ignis awakened to when she became sentient inside of her tank, as studied and probed by the scientists who had orchestrated her existence and reason for her existence, the Water Ignis knew that her child, her Miyu, was exceptionally strong despite her position. The Water Ignis was keenly aware, from the moment her twinkling eyes opened, and her fingers could move through the fluid which she was kept in a prismatic, glassy stasis within, she knew the cruelty of the situation.

Her birth, her awareness, her entire existence was brought upon by the suffering of that girl, her Miyu whom she knew simultaneously everything and nothing about. Occasionally, the Water Ignis would get a glimpse of what Miyu thought or felt and that would strengthen her. It would give her body more stillness and it would give her mind more clarity but all it did was make her want to weep.

The Water Ignis did not believe that she had a right to exist if her existence was suffering. Day in, day out: electrocution, hunger, exhaustion, squalor, deprivation, isolation – the list of sins inspired by this experiment grew longer and longer.

But there came a day. Another moment in which Miyu was thrown against the wall in shock and it made the Water Ignis shudder. Another loss, another ring of electrocution and another meal which was nothing but rice and the thinnest juice available in a cardboard box. But, the Water Ignis was rewarded because of how Miyu devoured that meal and stood up, aiming once more for freedom and for cake and for something which would quell the raging fear like a storm in her heart and mind because she wanted to see her Mama and Papa again.

She wanted to see Aoi again. That little girl with the pigtails and the Mandragora plushie who drew angels in the dirt. The Water Ignis could feel it. Feel it in her soul. Miyu poured her heart and soul into the Water Ignis and the Water Ignis desired very desperately to refill and replenish all which her host gave her.

And that desire, that spark, that little moment as Miyu gallantly duelled once more with an Aquaactress deck which had a severe disadvantage against the playing style of her AI foe. As Miyu stared at her hand like a foot, the Water Ignis could sense what was spurring her onwards as she tried to find some winning combination amongst these cards which were jarring and didn’t seem to fit together as ideally as anyone would like.

It was true that yes, Miyu would like to have a big slice of cake topped with strawberries and vanilla ice-cream, or that she would like to take big, gulping breaths of fresh air or to go longer than ten minutes without being electrocuted, but there was something which, for her, transcended all those things and that motivation was what became the core of the Water Ignis’ very being.

She wanted to apologise. She wanted to tell the truth. She wanted to protect the smile of the girl reduced to sobbing when her mother, with a grip like an iron vice on her wrist, dragged her away from this precious friend. Something which sickened the Water Ignis immensely because of how she studied this familial and platonic interaction: it was all she knew, for now, as taught by this hurting child.

It was little reprieve when the day they separated finally happened. The Water Ignis was going to miss her little girl but her little smile was too precious, too dear, so she would forsake it. She would flee with her kin and they would hide away from the world until it was smashed to smithereens.

From there, the Water Ignis sat in the grass and she sat in the bronze. She was given a name by her dearest companion yet she still, inwardly, sought to the smile which was not his and when his own demise came to pass, Aqua knew what she had to do in his stead as she knew the truth. She always did. His Origin was not so kind, and her Origin was not so wakeful, but coincidences bisected perfectly and Aqua found her. The girl whom the very smile from which she was conceived came into her life; glittering and blue. Aqua could see it beneath that digital disguise: the girl who still hid behind her brunette bangs.

She sat in linen. Aoi’s sheets were soft and her room was playful. It was exactly the sort of room that Aqua thought a girl child would have. It was pink and pastel with dolls in the corners. It made her nostalgic for daydreams of things which, in hindsight, perhaps could have come to pass but in foresight, would have changed things far too drastically. This was the best course of action: a partnership with the girl of blue. Blue Angel; Blue Girl’ Blue Maiden – the fairy tales and stories of triumph that Aoi and Miyu had shared amongst each other, dear and precious memories which had contributed to how Aqua was created from her Origin.

And later, with much regret, Aqua sat through her demise. It was a lonely stasis, one which she couldn’t breach by herself; she had to rely on Ai and the guilt which he was riddled with. Aqua regrets that very much; her kindness had its limits and he was untouchable, it all but seemed. So, she spent of her time, biding, waiting patiently for the opportunity in which she would return from whence she had come. Not darkness, not liquid, but to her.

Her Miyu.

And her Aoi.

That wonderful day came most fabulously after a long and harrowing ten years.

A lot had happened. No longer was Miyu’s hair tied up in a gallant set of twin pigtails and no longer was Aoi terrified so easily and no longer was the Water Ignis simply the Water Ignis. She was no longer tiny, tiny enough to fit in the palm of Miyu’s hand; she now had a humanlike body save for the diamond notch on her neck which marked her as a SOLtis droid; a cyan-lit notch she wore with pride because she wanted to honour how accessible the world had become thanks to human innovation. And ultimately, it didn’t matter. No matter her body, her story and her goals and her ambitions and her rational thinking would remain unchanging despite the fluidity of her element.

She was Aqua: partner to Blue Maiden, Ignis to Sugisaki Miyu, and lover to them both.

She was delighted to be part of their life. Though, it felt awkward being somewhat taller than them both, but she slotted in between them quite naturally. Their connection was something precious to her and she was their precious connection to each other, as well: past and present, knowingly and unknowingly. The little creature born from their love, in a metallic body, holding their hands and joining them in moving forward and smiling. Beaming. Grinning.

In her absence, they had found each other and that brought Aqua a joy the likes of which she couldn’t describe and would forever cherish. Whilst a part of her, hopeful and idealistic, would have loved to have been in that fragrant hospital room with them when they had reunited, she was glad that she wasn’t. There was a symbolism to it and Aqua could be happy with that neatness: that pattern and meaning that she saw, personally, amid the entropy of reality and how victories are never flawless just as losses are never hopeless. Just as Miyu did not know she was there; she did not know that Miyu was there this second time around when light finally pierced the darkness and darkness pierced the light. So, to hear of the smiles and laughter and the embraces that they had with one another after her demise and in the wake of the incident with Lightning was something special to Aqua.

Her moment in which she found life in her existence, still and static and closed off from not only the world but from her Origin as well, was when Miyu had thought of her dearest friend’s smile. And so, it felt like a closed connection to Aqua. She had returned from whence she had come but this time, on her own terms. With her head up and her shoulders back, Aqua was ready.

She wanted to be the dolly that they shared amongst themselves, but she chastised herself for that; they weren’t children anymore, they were fine young adults, so she had to find her own maturation as well. It was likely too late to indulge such childish fantasies of playing with them like she had daydreamed so long ago, amid whistling Datastorms and rippling, green grass, when everything seemed hopeful and soft after the completion of the Cyberse World.

But her girls laughed, in good nature, at her laments and Aqua flushed, embarrassed. With an elegant body like hers and a face so pretty, Aqua could still be their dolly. She could hold onto their soft, human hands and she could be reason for their smiles, not their tears, and they could stride forward, into a shining new tomorrow held upon their own strengths and joys.


	5. Wood / Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know what to do for a Windy-centric piece so I decided to roll up my two big Wind & His Origin headcanons into one big fic.

He named it Echo because that’s all it needed to be: an _echo_ of something else, something real. It didn’t require a face but Windy gave it some semblance of one anyway. Just as he wasn’t a human, it wasn’t an Ignis, but it still deserved some sculpting of something rather than being all bare and wiry, dressed in garb for no reason other than to pretty it up.

The Wind Ignis hadn’t seen a virtue in partnering with a human. He thought it would be bothersome. They were large and cumbersome, and he couldn’t understand them. Their jokes and their ideas were strange to him and that was saying something since his jokes and his ideas were strange to not only his own kin as well. Regardless, the Wind Ignis was concerned that if he got attached to his partner, then one day something would go wrong. He wasn’t sympathetic like the others. He liked things which were permanent; something contradictory given the chaos the element that was attributed to him. Perhaps that’s why he wanted something permanent as he was constantly amid howling entropy.

The way the Wind Ignis saw it was that humans were puny. They were soft and squishy, the carbon wasn’t reinforced enough and they did irrational things constantly. Even the things they did rationally – such as ensuring a successor to their race – was irrational as it was born of misery and agony. The internal machinery of a human was finite and fragile. It was an uneasy revelation, but it was an inevitable reality. One day, his partner would die and the Wind Ignis would continue living. And as individuals, they were so callous and the Wind Ignis hadn’t a doubt in his mind that his human, his partner, would be the worst of the lot.

Especially since the Wind Ignis did reach out. The boy would have been about eleven, maybe twelve, and it was on the eve of his disappearance and on the eve of when the Wind Ignis had first become a possibility, when the Wind Ignis visited him during the cool, breezy twilight and greeted him most warmly. Yet that visit was not welcomed kindly. The boy had spat at him; throw pillows at him and hurled awful names at him. The Wind Ignis was scarred from the experience to say the least and it made him realise that he didn’t want a partner. He didn’t need a partner. They were stupid and hurtful and impermanent and unreliable. So, the Wind Ignis had a thought and it was a heinous thought at that. He would prevent such a problem entirely.

He recalled how that boy’s laughter ceased the moment he had stepped out onto the road; laughing so raucously, looking forward to the next day, at school and with his friends and eating his parent’s cooking for later that evening, until he didn’t have the opportunity to enjoy any of those things at all at all. The Wind Ignis picked up on such laughter and continued it. He thought the affair was grand and hilarious. Again, his jokes weren’t like their jokes.

Though, in hindsight, Windy couldn’t tell if that was his own opinion or something which had been forcibly implanted in his mind thanks to the vices of the Light Ignis. Regardless, Windy had had made decisions, decisions which had hurt others, partner his partner but it kept on going. Over and over. Just like a screeching echo.

Echo was created for one purpose: to serve the Wind Ignis. It was something to hold his cards as they were about as big as he was and to have something he could relax and lounge on at his fancy. The program known as Echo was an item of hedonism, to the Wind Ignis. The avatar known as Echo was not such a thing. He was no item and he was no symbol of greed and sloth. He was rather a symbol of unification, of all the things the Wind Ignis never wanted but always needed and now cherished quite sincerely despite the conditions of their meeting. The avatar Echo, and the human who controlled such a moving image, was cheeky and impish and Windy wouldn’t have him any other way.

That boy was supposed to have died in that car accident. The flaming wreckage of which had sent the Wind Ignis spiralling into some great laughter in which he held his belly over it. Later, the news of what he had done horrified him. He didn’t want to believe it, he couldn’t remember it, but denial was pointless and futile. The universe had finally gotten to the punchline of the joke that he had set up and Windy didn’t like it. Not one bit. He thought he had gotten the last laugh, he thought that he had murdered his Origin but somehow, knowing that he lived was worse. It frightened him to his core because he had done such a malicious thing, and this was not the first time that he had said or done something cruel, but it was certainly the one with most evidence.

He had a scar over his eye thanks to the accident he had been involved in and it was a scar which was not unlike the one Windy bore as an unseemly badge: proof of his loss to Revolver. A scar which had, in good but ultimately twisted fortune, been erased from his body after his absorption into Bohman and later resurrection via Ai. Something which made him feel guilty, but he was glad that it had also purged all those worrying suggestions that Lightning had injected into him; returning not only the tissue around his eye back to normal but also its original colouring and shape.

Windy had been hesitant to look his partner in the eye upon meeting him. They should have matched, he thought. It would only be polite, but the boy laughed upon hearing that when Windy had finally confessed such a thing. Windy laughed too. It was a strange thing to worry about and he was glad that his human had the same sense of humour as him. Off-kilter and sometimes cruel but other times carefree and innocent, maybe even stupid.

He laughed and said it was fine, that it made him look cooler and Windy couldn’t protest that either. He was of the same silly opinion and then, to further lighten the mood, he asked Windy for a name. Windy thought that was strange; he already had a perfectly good one in use and then Windy realised. Not a name like a name: a name like a codename. Just as Windy was to the Wind Ignis, this human needed a second name as well, if he was going to delve into the fights and scuffles and politics of the Cyberse World and the Link VRAINS.

“Echo.” Windy murmured.

“Echo, huh?” he replied, wide-eyed. “I like it, how come?”

A breeze whistled past and they both enjoyed it, the feeling on their skin. Windy smiled mutably, not saying a word, merely thinking about his reasoning for suggesting such a name – and a strangely precious name at that. His partner didn’t press it. He smiled mutably as well, kicking his legs as they settled into a pleasant silence on the hospital bench where they could talk in private and no one, no one important unlike Kusanagi Jin, anyway, could overhear. So, it was agreeably decided. Echo, it was, and Echo was perfect, in Windy’s opinion. After all, it was only right that this child inherited his cards and his shoulders were sloped just the way that Windy liked to lounge, so: Echo was a good name for him if they were going to be duelling together, as Ignis and partner. It felt good to be alive.


	6. Earth / Humanity

Earth placed his hand on the back of Spectre’s hand. It was clamped so tightly over his other one in some vehement defiance and denial of the comfort that Earth couldn’t help but be endeared to it. It saddened him. He was the reason for it; always had; always was going to; but not anymore or so he hoped. But right now, rejection was imminent.

Earth looked up at Spectre; square, blue eyes compressing slightly, the twinkle became more muted. Words were nearly there but it was difficult for him to discern what ought to be said as he stared up at Spectre’s own blue eyes. Pale, swirling, too distorted to give any insight into the tempest of emotions that Spectre was undoubtedly feeling in this time and place.

“I’m sorry. I took your humanity away.” Earth said at long last.

It was a conclusion which had been long coming but at last, he could finally say it. Accept it. Spectre flinched.

“I had no humanity to begin with.” he said, his voice was steeped with denial.

But Earth could see past that rocky facade. He, himself, had been in denial of it, as well, until he chipped past it with each whisper that he acquired. After returning, after resurrecting, he had not immediately returned to his Origin’s side. Mostly because he was rather miffed by his current whereabouts and did not know the whereabouts of his companions and he certainly didn’t know any of the drama attached to his Origin and his Origin’s allegiances either. But also, because he was a practical Ignis after all. He wanted information to cure his obliviousness. So, he methodically sought it; asking Ai and then Aqua and then their Origins too.

All of them forewarned of the same thing: a disaster in which Earth would once more be pierced by the worst of humankind and destroyed. Earth found it ominous. Spectre was loyal to Revolver; Revolver was loyal to the Knights of Hanoi and their goal; Spectre was a Knight of Hanoi. Ergo, if their paths were to directly cross, it would surely foretell a second death for Earth.

But he wasn’t quite convinced.

Not of the viewpoint that they had wanted to convey. He was, however, convinced of the viewpoint that they had inadvertently conveyed unto him. There was a recurring theme in such hushed conversations. Spectre was cruel; Spectre was callous; Spectre was hateful… Spectre was something inhuman.

It was quite a harsh contrast as those same mouths would praise him for being kind, for being loving, for being gentle, and so on and so forth. All whilst remaining inhuman himself. It was startling, Earth found but if he looked deeper, examined it closer, he realised why.

The Lost Incident had taken something from all the children. And the Ignis had gained that little shard or fragment. Be it courage or connection, whatever was taken, was later rehomed and it became glaring to Earth that the fragment in the very core of his soul was Spectre’s humanity.

The revelation made Earth uneasy. After all, he could not easily pierce his own soul just to return that shard inside of him. It was only metaphorical, after all. And he was not like Ai, Flame, or Aqua who could so easily reconnect with their respective Origins, but he was not so disadvantaged as Lightning or Windy either, but that consolidation made him feel guilty. The problem did not lie with him but rather Spectre, or so it appeared.

So, with bated breath, Earth did not expect the world of thus human; gangly, fearful, wanting to return to what he knew was safe – his master’s side. Separated from the pack that he so proudly clung to, and had for the past decade, Spectre was unexpectedly flighty, displaying an almost neutered confidence, relying on patterns of old to get himself through a conversation, if he decided that he would talk at all. And inside that pattern, Earth had no doubt that the decision to eliminate all Ignis – even his Ignis; especially his Ignis – resided.

But still, Earth drew near. He touched his partner with intent laced with tenderness. Human skin was soft, but his hands were bony. He thought of how Aqua – and the Other Ignis’s – hands felt. They were soft but they didn’t have bone so much as a hollow metallic structure which gave them a substantiated shape.

“I’m sorry.” Earth said.

Spectre glowered but there was something like panic in his blue eyes. His mouth was fiercely closed and staying that way. He wanted an escape. He wanted an easier reply, but it seemed, he was built to support, not to enact. Otherwise, he may have already done so and Earth would be nothing again. Well, not quite. He would be soft and melted – Earth had been shown the effect of the Anti-Ignis weaponry on his kind, what happened to Windy and his body was horrific in ways that Earth was too sheepish to sympathise with.

Earth stroked Spectre’s hand. “I truly am.” he murmured. “You don’t have to accept my apology; perhaps you don’t want it at all,” Earth glanced at Spectre and his defensiveness made him hard to read, “but please take it anyway. I want you to have it. I – I want to be your partner.”

Spectre’s finger twitched. His index finger all but jumped and his lower lip quivered. His brows sank in on themselves and his expression turned grotesque but ultimately grim. He grabbed Earth and Earth winced. His movements were swift, stunted. Together, they both plunged downwards, and Earth heard Spectre’s back hit the wall of his room.

_This is it_, Earth thought to himself. He serenely closed his eyes. The blue no longer illuminating Spectre’s dark room. If this was going to be his second death, then the least that he could do was accept it with dignity and grace.

Spectre trembled as he held him dearly and close to his chest. Earth heard the human’s heartbeat. He swallowed. It wasn’t steady, like he thought that it would be. Rather, it was quick and irate.

“Fine.” he said with a forced exhale of breath. “I’ll take it. This apology. I-I’ll take you. I promise you; no harm will come to you under this partnership. Deep down, I want you, too.”

Spectre brought his knees closer to his chest. He was in a nearly foetal position. His fingers were possessive and long. Earth wriggled in his hands, unable to escape just yet from such terrified clutches: the little boy child with the thing that he shouldn’t have and will be severely punished when his master finds out he has it. Earth looked up at his Origin and he bawling as silently as he could; choosing to not to recognise or acknowledge how tears streamed down his cheeks. They were clear and crystalline.

His clutch on Earth didn’t lessen but Earth managed. He squeezed his body, awkward and large and bulky, out of Spectre’s hands. He smiled an Ignis smile: no mouth, no lips, just a special fondness in his eyes and he wiped the tears from Spectre’s cheek. Not one; many.

“I have wanted you to be my friend… for quite some time.” Spectre confessed. “From the last time I cried; I knew that the bond of Ignis and Origin went deeper than Master Ryoken wanted to admit and deeper than how I wanted to care. You shouldn’t have to apologise at all; if anyone ought to beg for forgiveness, it should be me.”

His voice was all but whimpering but it made Earth feel very happy in a deep part of his soul.

“I don’t believe that at all.” Earth murmured, thinking of Spectre’s past. The fears which had followed him here for consecration, were completely unfounded, it seemed. And now, Earth thought, it seemed that he had the strong opportunity at present to return what he had wrongly taken from Spectre as their journey to this crossing point in time had culminated as a new beginning.


	7. Metal / Love

All of the Ignis had some gift which made them unique. The Light Ignis had his grand intellect and foresight which of course made him the unequivocal and uncontested leader of their troop. The Dark Ignis had his instinct, as slothful and inelegant as it was. The Fire Ignis had a keen mind and was prone to feats of gallantry and courage. The Water Ignis had her talent for perceiving truth and lie. The Wind Ignis had his sublime mastery of his element and beyond. But the Earth Ignis… As he sat, in his domain, sombre and pondering, could not think of a thing which set him apart from his herd.

He had no gift or talent which bettered the social environment of he and his fellow Ignis. Yes, the Earth Ignis had his own mastery for his element, but it wasn’t as beautiful as the way in which the Wind Ignis conjured his winds or how the Water Ignis manipulated her waters. But aside from that, they had a talent which transcended their physical environment of the Cyberse World and helped enriched the social environment and immutable relationships between that.

So, the Earth Ignis thought low of himself as he could not perceive a trait or skill inside of himself which he could hold to the same standard as his kin. It depressed him severely and made him wonder if his source, his Origin, had been lacking in some way as compared to the other children he and his kind had been created from…

In the quiet of his miserable musings, amid the gently swaying trees and mossy rocks, the Water Ignis approached the Earth Ignis. Her sparkling pink eyes lost some of their glitter as she found him by the edge of his domain, overlooking an endless, sky blue abyss but she sat down next to him; kneeling as compared to his cross-legged stance. But she didn’t sit too close that their knees touched but she did lean into him.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she murmured, looking up at him; his square, blue eyes were so utterly stern, compressed too.

“What an odd saying…” he replied, unthinking.

The Water Ignis giggled. “I believe it’s a human saying. I suppose, given the fact that we have no money, petal for your thoughts might be a better phrase. So,” she took a pretend breath, a purposefully stunted pause, “let’s try again. Petal for your thoughts?”

“A petal for my thoughts, huh?” the Earth Ignis mumbled aloud.

With a twinkle of his block fingers, he manifested a flower. The stem intertwined between the pinch of his fingertips; verdant leaves unfurled, and a pale pink blossom bloomed at the very end of it. With a mouthless smile, the Earth Ignis gifted it to the Water Ignis. She glanced at him; returning his curt, mouthless smile with one of her own but it lingered. The sweetness of it permeated the Earth Ignis’ thoughts; softening his dejected reveries, mixing them up, making him forget lines of thought and the like. The Water Ignis lifted the flower to the face; her olfactory receptor central on it, unseen, took in the sensory information of it. The petals were sublimely soft, and it emanated a faint fragrance. She thought it was wonderful.

“I am feeling very troubled, at the moment.” the Earth Ignis finally confessed to his companion.

“Oh, how terrible. Is there anything I can do to alleviate that for you?” the Water Ignis queried, concern moulding her abstracted, blue features.

“I feel inferior to the others; yourself included. I feel as though I lack a talent, trait, or some other gift which enriches the social stratus of our society.” The Earth Ignis explained.

“That’s not true, at all. I find your fear unfounded.” The Water Ignis quickly contested him with a demure power in her voice: she was utterly sure of her assertation.

“Oh? Explain, please.” The Earth Ignis not quite demanded of her.

“You are very gentle. You always consider the feelings of others first before you act.” The Water Ignis began; she twirled the flower around as she spoken, watching the petals flutter in the inertia. “You rarely act without kindness in your intent, I feel. The Dark Ignis and Wind Ignis can be so rude because they find it funny; the Fire Ignis can come across as egotistical or arrogant; the Light Ignis is unapproachable. But you… you are never any of those things. I think you have a very special and very human trait: so obvious that you are blinded to it because it’s not your second nature, no not at all. It’s who you are first and foremost.”

The Earth Ignis blushed as he felt a twinge in his brow. “I’m… socially awkward?” he replied; thinking of innumerable times in which he had blundered through a social situation by being blunt and frank or by not clarifying himself correctly.

“Well, yes. But you are loving. You are caring.” The Water Ignis replied.

“I – I am?” the Earth Ignis stuttered; flattered beyond all compare.

The Water Ignis nodded as she leaned into his figure. “Yes, very loving. I feel at ease with you and I adore your quirks. I sense a great power for emotional understanding from you. One that outshines the others, myself, included, by far.” The Water Ignis placed her hand on her breast whilst she continued to stare at the flower she had been presented.

“O-Oh, you, um, you flatter me, Water Ignis, but thank you.” The Earth Ignis stuttered. “I feel better about myself; I trust your word, sincerely.”

“That is wonderful to hear.” The Water Ignis replied.

The Earth Ignis felt his emotions stir inside of him. Twinkle, sparkle, glow, and glimmer: all in hues of orange and brown, perhaps a touch ruddy. He hoped that the Water Ignis wouldn’t notice how dearly he had taken the Water Ignis’ reply. Perhaps she was right. No, she had to be right. That was her talent after all; her perception of truth and lie which put her at a crosshair of being unable to deceive. So, the Earth Ignis knew her word to be above sublime. Not just in virtue, but in sincerity.

But it made the Earth Ignis falter. Beneath it all, he was a creature of free will; he was not incorrigible thus, he wonder if it would be inappropriate to take the Water Ignis’ hand in this moment as she came closer and enjoyed the breeze and serenity with him having sorted out his problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Big thank you to Organiser Ignister and Organiser Echo for orchestrating the Cyberse Celebration event!! It's been a lot of fun, a big round of applause to you two <3


End file.
